


Fortune Smiles

by Chaos_Silk (CrimsonChaos)



Category: Dark Cloud (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonChaos/pseuds/Chaos_Silk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet series. The scenes we don't see before, after and during Toan's excursions into the dungeons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bad Start

**Author's Note:**

> Um, so this is the first thing I've posted on any mainstream fanfic site in years and it's the first time I have posted on Ao3 ever so I'm just a teensy bit nervous and excited. I don't really expect much of anything, but if there's anything the Dark Cloud fandom has taught me, it's that we have some of the most amazing people in it.
> 
> So, I intend to try and write one ficlet for each floor in every dungeon -I expect I'll get to the end of Dran's before wandering off again-, just to get in the habit and explore the world I love so much again. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy <3.

Every part of Toan’s body ached, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. Fairy Magic may have taken care of his wounds when he transferred from the dungeon back to the village, but the ache and the heaviness still lingered. The gash he had gotten in his side from a skeleton’s dagger still sent sharp warning twinges as he walked, even though the wound itself was completely healed over, he ran his fingers over the smooth skin to check periodically because it throbbed with every step as if the knife was still embedded in his skin. His movements were slow and lethargic, not only because he was tired and hurting, but because it still felt like the poison was still eating away at him from the inside.

Predictably, the fairy king didn’t show up to explain to him why he was still hurting even though his injuries had melted away as though they had never existed. Perhaps it was a punishment for not even making it to the second floor. Perhaps it was punishment for failing to defeat every monster and having to be whisked away before the beast could land the final blow. Perhaps he just wasn’t good enough even though the Atlamillia had chosen him.

Or perhaps fairy magic couldn’t fix everything. Just like it couldn’t protect the world from the Dark Genie, only seal it away in little bubbles. He thought it was the most likely explanation, just another item on the list that he had to fix himself.

Being a hero was tougher than he thought; everyone talked about how awe-inspiring it was to fight the monsters and save the day and how heroes must be so strong if they were chosen to do the great things they did, but they never talked about what happened when they were first starting out, armed only with a dagger and what meagre supplies the mayor could spare. Even heroes chosen by fate had to start somewhere, Toan told himself, even though a part of him wished it was as easy as the stories about his father made it sound. He wished that he could just jump into battle without any experience and kill everything that stood in his way, that he could just blink and suddenly the village was back to normal, exactly the way it was before today, that nothing bad had ever happened and when he opened his eyes again, he wasn’t the chosen one, just a normal boy going about his everyday life.

But nothing would ever be normal again, at least for him.

He wanted his mother, but she was still trapped, trapped within the Atla within the dungeon and he didn’t save her. He didn’t even manage to save anyone except for the Macho brother’s house and a lamp before collapsing and being magicked away. And now, nighttime had fallen and all he could do was try to find a place to rest before diving in again.

Norune village was still an eerie blank slate with nothing to lean on as he limped towards the mayor’s house. The wind whistled eerily through his hair, whispering things to him in a language he didn’t completely understand, but comprehended anyway, telling him how empty the place was and wouldn’t he hurry up and restore it already. Hearing it ached almost as much as seeing the completely empty place where his home once stood. He limped past it, trying not to think how unnerving it was that the entire place was as flat and as level as one of Pike’s tables, as if a giant had come and stomped it flat.

By the time he made it to the stairs, the lingering pain had faded into a dull, but tolerable ache; the phantom knife in his side was no longer stabbing him with every wrong movement. It was a blessing because he didn’t think he could have managed them with his vision blacking out every other step. He stumbled up, leaning heavily on the rail for a moment before continuing on.

He practically fell through the door as soon as he managed to get it open, catching himself on the doorjamb just in time. The mayor looked up from his book, eyes widening at the sight and then suddenly he was in front of Toan, supporting him as he helped him to the sitting area. As soon as he was settled comfortably the mayor whisked his pouch away, restocking his supplies before handing it back and sitting across from him.

“So my boy, how did your first adventure go?” He asked, smiling at him like he was expecting something great from him. Toan’s shoulders fell and he glanced at the ground, trying to sniff back tears. He didn’t entirely succeed, as his vision blurred and his cheeks felt wet; the mayor leaned forward and patted him on the shoulder, though it wasn’t really much of a pat, more of a wallop that sent shockwaves through his body, the pain reminding him just how badly he failed. A sandwich and a bottle of water was pushed into his hands, and he began to eat, almost mechanically. He didn’t answer, letting the silence speak for itself.

“That bad, huh? Don’t worry. You can give it another try tomorrow.” The mayor laughed, as if he were speaking of something mundane like fishing instead of diving into a dungeon filled with monsters. If he hadn’t been resolutely staring at the ground, Toan would have stared at the Mayor like he had lost his mind. Try again? Of course he would have to, it only made sense.

But… could he do it? It had all seemed so simple this morning, when the Fairy King explained it, the Mayor supported it and he was rushing in armed only with his trusty dagger.

His father wouldn’t have had to run away with his tail between his legs after fighting a couple monsters. His father wouldn’t have accidentally drank his only antidote after mistaking it for a bottle of water. His father probably would have killed the bat before he got poisoned in the first place.

He wasn’t his father, but he was a hero. He had been chosen. He was special.

And he had never felt more alone.

The mayor patted him on his shoulder again, pulling a blanket off the back of the couch he was sitting on to drape over Toan’s shoulders. “Things will look better in the morning.” He insisted as Toan finally looked at him, smiling warmly at the would-be-hero. “You’ll see. Just get some rest and everything will fall into place.” And then, he was gone, toddling off to his own bed as he left Toan on the couch.

A part of him wanted to resent him, he was in charge of the village, he should be saving it, but in the end he was as helpless against the dark genie as anyone was. There wasn’t anything the mayor could do aside from giving him supplies and encouraging him. This was something he had to do himself, as the one chosen by the atlamillia, by the fairies, by the world itself. In light of that, facing a few measly monsters seemed like it was a small task.

It still hurt though, as he curled up on the couch, missing his bed, his home and his mother.


	2. Decision (Floor 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late and short. Enjoy <3.

The sun rose and Toan woke with it; it would have taken more than the world falling away to break a habit that had been ingrained in him since birth. Normally his mother would have been downstairs, fixing breakfast and humming a song under her breath while she waited for him to get dressed and come down, greeting the sun with the same sad smile on her face like she had every day since his father disappeared. The mayor’s house was blessedly silent, the wee hours of the morning being the only time it wasn’t filled with mechanical sounds –the grinding of gears, the hum of the engine, Toan didn’t know what half these things did- as the mayor ran maintenance on all of his devices before he started the rest of his day.

Breakfast was a short affair, bread, cheese and a bottle of water; the mayor didn’t even speak to him as he tuned his devices, humming under his breath. It was awkward in a way Toan hadn’t felt since he accidentally walked in on Claude taking a bath . And just like then, he excused himself as quickly as possible, water in one hand and cheese in the other.

As he opened the door, the sun shone directly into his eyes, blinding him for a moment before he adjusted. The light reflected off the empty field, reminding him of his purpose. Squaring his shoulders, he walked, determined to try again. His body felt oddly light, not a single twinge or ache reminding him of the beating he had suffered yesterday. He felt like he could take on the world and then some.

He chalked it up to fairy magic, hastily shoving the entire wedge of cheese in his mouth as he ran across the village-plain, not stopping to think, swallowing it down without even choking. If he stopped he would have remembered; if he walked, he would have considered. So he ran, headlong into danger just like he did the day before.

As the gates of Dran’s lair came into view, he slowed from a run to a jog, moving a little more carefully as he recalled that he had managed to retrieve something from the cave yesterday. It wasn’t a complete failure like he had thought when he had staggered out and made his way back to the mayor’s house. He hadn’t managed to save anyone, but he had managed to retrieve the Machos’ house.

Toan touched the stone attached to his left hand, wondering what he needed to do to release it and how it worked. As soon as his fingers brushed the surface, his vision blurred and then was replaced by an eagle’s eye view of Norune. From here the empty space was much more obvious; it sat oddly in his mind, like the empty, bloody space after losing a tooth. Despite the pain, he couldn’t help but want to poke it.

When he realized that he had complete control over where the houses go, he was tempted; he could make it better than before, he could put everything where he wanted and never have to reconsider. A part of him wanted to put it back exactly how it had been before, even with the various complaints he had heard daily about their living situation. Alnet hated the Machos, but her house was right next to them, the Machos didn’t like the walk it took to get to the Divine Beast Cave, Claude and Laura hated living so close to the Mayor where the noise kept the former up and the latter hated the smell of oil and metal.

It could be the same as the village he grew up in, but it wouldn’t ever be the exact same; once something had been wiped away, it could never be reverted to how it was before, that was the way the world worked. It could be better, making everyone happy even as he saved the world. They deserved that much.

He only considered it for a moment before setting the Machos’ house down right in front of the entrance to the cave, using controls he couldn’t explain out loud without sounding crazy, he attached the lamp to the house and then moved his hand away from the stone, breaking the connection. It took all of a minute for his vision to adjust, blinking furiously as he went from all the way up in the sky back down to earth.

This success, however minor, was enough to give him enough courage to set foot back inside the cave. The door opened when the tips of his fingers touched it; now that it was unlocked it fell open with a stern look, magic being the only thing that kept the monsters from wandering into the village. It wasn’t the best or the smartest system, but it worked and Toan wasn’t going to question it.

He cautiously walked down the steps, sand crunching beneath his boots, dagger clutched awkwardly in his right hand. This wasn’t the same floor he was on yesterday, though it was the first one; magic, whether Dran’s or the fairies’, rearranged the entire dungeon once someone set foot inside it, making it impossible to map out reliably. If it wasn’t for magic, no one would ever be able to reach the bottom floors.

He could hear a bat squeaking somewhere in the distance, the rattle of the bones of an animated skeleton and running water, even though all he could see was the damp cave walls. He readied his dagger, shifting from a relaxed stance to a ready one. It would be different this time, he was sure of it.


	3. Mother & Happy Clown (Floor 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Late and kind of short again, but I've decided to relax my updating schedule a bit. Once every two weeks, if possible. Fortune Smiles updates every other Monday from now on. I'll admit that I have no idea where I'm going with this, but it's fun to write and I like basing it off of stuff that has happened to me in-game, so….

The first atla he opened on the second floor contained his mother: sunlight streaming in through open windows, the warmth of the blankets around him as he slept in, the smell of bread baking mixed with the strong sharp smell of the herbs drying in the kitchen, the song she always hummed echoing through the house, the first bite into a doughnut made just for him. She felt like home, all the good warm things that had made up his everyday life until then. Her presence settled in the back of his mind, where all the georama pieces –as horrible as it felt to reduce people, his mother, to inanimate objects- go when they're not in place in the real world. Joy and relief welled up from within him, bringing tears to his eyes and almost distracting him from the world outside of his mind long enough for a Dasher to run up and conk him on the back of the head.

He dodged without even thinking about it and with a slice-slice-slice it was gone, body returning to … somewhere, Toan didn't know about. He didn't want to think too much about where the creatures he killed went after they died –both physically and spiritually-, he just wanted them somewhere where they wouldn't be hunting him through the labyrinthine caverns and hindering his progress. Did that make him a bad person? He only cared that they weren't attacking him anymore and the fact that they sometimes dropped useful things and money was only a plus.

Monster defeated, mother retrieved, Toan adjusted his turban, glancing around. The room was one of the smaller ones, with a division between it and the back of the room and the magic crystal, which had been in the treasure chest right in front of the stairs leading to the warp room, informed him that there was a group of atla there and a chest.

As he peeked around the corner –because sometimes when things were grouped together like that, it meant that a monster could go unnoticed-, he realized that the chest waiting for him there wasn't the small orange one he had been expecting, but a wooden chest large enough for him to fit comfortably inside if he curled up into a ball. Half-remembered stories about King Mimics echoing through his mind, he cautiously walked over to it and placed one hand on the lid, dagger at ready as he attempted to open it.

As soon as he laid his hand on the wood, it exploded open in a flurry of sparkles and confetti. He jumped back, eyes wide and staring as a clown, a clown of all things, jumped out of the treasure chest, floating directly above. Toan stared at it-him(?) and wondered if maybe he was hallucinating, if maybe the Dasher *had* gotten a hit on him and this was the result. There was no other explanation.

"It's time for a present from the happy clown." The hallucination announced, two boxes appearing and swirling around the air above his hands. Toan blinked as he leaned forward and presented him with them, as if he was supposed to choose one. He stared at the clown, the clown stared at him.

He suddenly had a sinking feeling that this wasn't a hallucination and he really was staring down a clown who wanted him to choose between the big box and the small one. As if he even had to think about it. He gestured to the large box and it immediately melted away revealing a small sword which was handed to him and immediately replaced his dagger. With a smile and a wave, the clown disappeared into a puff of purple smoke, leaving Toan to wonder what in the hell just happened.

There was still the distinct possibility that he had been hallucinating, but the handle of the sword he was holding told him he wasn't.

He wasn't sure which answer was more comforting.


End file.
